


You are not your skin.

by ashkore_varg



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Billy also hates himself, Billy hates his scars, Bottom Billy Hargrove, Fix-It, M/M, Non-Graphic Smut, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Steve helps him through it, watch me Marie Kondo the shit out of s3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-19 07:37:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20327485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashkore_varg/pseuds/ashkore_varg
Summary: Billy has survived the Mind Flayer, but being possessed by the creature has left him broken and traumatized, ashamed of the things he's done and insecure about himself. When he gets out of the hospital and moves in with Steve, his boyfriend gives him some time to adjust, but when he realizes it's too hard for him to make it on his own, he has to step in.





	You are not your skin.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I decided to write a little one shot about Billy trying to adjust to life after being possessed by an interdimensional monster, I'm probably not the first to do this, but I still hope you're gonna like my take on it!
> 
> The title and the lyrics at the beginning are from the song Skin by Sixx:A.M. if you're wondering, and if you maybe wanna listen to it while reading!

_"Come into focus_

_Step out of the shadows_

_It's a losing battle_

_There's no need to be ashamed_

_'Cause they don't even know you_

_All they see is scars_

_They don't see the angel_

_Living in your heart_

_Let them find the real you_

_Buried deep within_

_Let them know with all you've got_

_That you are not your skin"_

* * *

Billy used to like his own body. 

He'd worked hard on it, watching what he ate and exercising, he loved it when his skin turned golden underneath the Californian sun. He liked to show it off, like a peacock or a lion strutting around with pride, making heads turn as he grinned, knowing perfectly the full effect he had on people. 

Yet he couldn't always parade his pecs and abs, at times his sun-kissed skin turned a nasty shade of purple and green, so he would wear a t-shirt underneath his leather jacket, covering up the ugly truth that mangled his entire life. 

But bruises fade, 

Scrapes heal, 

Cuts close up. 

But what the monster did, was never going to vanish. 

Billy stared at his reflection in the mirror, fingers swiping, pushing and prodding at the star shaped embossed tissue. He'd never seen an uglier constellation in his brief life, each point branching out into his skin where fanged tentacles had bitten into his flesh. 

A mottled, dark puce reminder of the fight he'd nearly lost, a fight that costed him way too much, a fight he'd been roped up into against his will. 

Billy's eyes fell shut. Fingertips freezing over the aging wounds. It had been almost over eight months, but the memories were still so vivid, Billy could still taste the foul black blood spilling into his mouth. Could still feel his body acting on its own accord, could still hear a vicious hiss resonating through his mind dictating his every move.

Passively. Incapable of rebelling. 

Billy's fists clenched tightly, shirt falling back to cover up the shame and the unsightliness. Hot tears streamed down his face as his entire body shook violently with the sobs he was trying to swallow back. 

He'd never wanted to cause all that suffering, all that damage. Yes, he'd always been an asshole, he'd always bullied and mistreated everyone in sight, but what that monster made him do went above and beyond his fucked up ways. 

Yet all he could repeat to himself was that he'd deserved it. 

He'd deserved the pain, he'd deserved the terror and the horror, he'd deserved the scars. 

Wasn't he some sort of a monster himself, after all? 

Lashing out at Max. 

Threatening Lucas. 

Beating up Steve. 

Yeah, he'd deserved all of that. 

He’d already been molded and bent to someone’s will in his life, for his entire life, actually. The vitriol he spat at everyone he crossed paths with, came right out of his father’s mouth. Ever since he were a little kid he’d been subjugated by some monster, the Mind Flayer had found the perfect puppet in Billy, pliant and easy to scare into submission and manipulation.

That monster must have been so pleased with its find, who could be a better host than a loner with temperament issues and a history of attacking people? Someone that nobody cared about, someone that everyone wanted nothing to do with, not even his father.

The perfect vessel for an interdimensional entity whose only desire was to destroy and kill.

Billy could still see all the faces, still hear all the screams and cries and pleads for mercy. The fear in their voices, the dread in their eyes, he still woke up screaming in the dead of the night, because they would never leave him alone.

And Billy thought he deserved that, too.

There was a soft knock on the already open door, and Billy jumped slightly. Traumas were just piling up on him, if at first he'd jump when hearing a noise that could potentially be his father approaching, now he feared that some interdimensional evil entity was lurking in the dark, waiting to possess him again. 

“Damn, sorry babe… Didn't mean to scare you.” Steve muttered, sounding mortified. 

It wasn't Steve's fault, he had learned to make his presence known so that Billy wouldn't flinch in fear when caught off guard, but it still didn't fully work. 

“I know, ‘salright.” Billy muttered, moving away from the mirror and trying to focus on literally anything else. 

But Steve knew. He wasn't as stupid as everyone made him out to be. He let out a sigh, walking up to Billy who was pretending to rearrange one of Steve's drawers in the commode, and wrapped his arms around him from behind. 

“Talk to me?” Steve pecked at the soft flesh of Billy's neck, lips quickly brushing over the beginning of a scar that was mostly covered by a thick layer of cotton. 

Billy stiffened ever so slightly, hands stilling between the already neatly folded t-shirts. He thought about how much he still wanted to try and get Steve to wear something a bit more rock'n'roll, since he'd already strayed so much from the preppy douche he was in high school. He smiled softly at the thought. 

“It's nothing…” Billy shook his head “I should buy you a leather jacket.”

“You always say that, but you never do.” Steve teased. 

Billy hummed in some sort of slightly amused manner, but they fell silent just a moment later. He knew Steve would have wanted to inquire, he'd have wanted Billy to talk and flush out all the poison tainting his mind. But he didn’t, because Steve didn't push, didn't pry, he knew better than to make Billy upset or even angry.

Steve really deserved that gift. Maybe tomorrow Billy would actually go out to buy him that leather jacket he was only going off about. 

“Be a good boy today, and maybe I’ll get it for you.” a corner of Billy’s mouth curled into a soft, lopsided smirk.

“You’ve got your very own idea of what makes me a good boy, so you’re gonna have to be a bit more specific.” Steve let out a huff of laughter, and gently squeezed Billy in his arms before letting go of him.

The moment in which Steve’s arms weren’t around Billy anymore, he felt like he was about to fall apart, as if Steve had been the only thing holding him together. It was ridiculous to think about, but if Billy was still somewhat sane to this day, he owed it all to the amazing boy that stuck by his side, no matter what.

“Surprise me.” he didn’t turn around right away, he didn’t want Steve to see the momentary panic that had flashed across his face.

“Alright, then.” 

Billy sucked in a quiet breath, then finally turned around to face his boyfriend. Steve furrowed his eyebrows, a hand cautiously rising up to push Billy’s curls out of his eyes, and cup his cheek. Billy knew there was no fooling him, but he could always try. 

“You know you can talk to me, right? Even about things we’ve already talked about, I don’t mind.” Steve raised his eyebrows as he spoke, his voice as soft as the touch that Billy was leaning into.

“I don’t-” Billy’s eyes screwed shut, a grimace warping his features as the most awful images flashed behind his eyelids “It’s just-” 

No words could make it past Billy’s lips, they got stuck in the knot that blocked his throat. He tried to swallow it down, untie it with the shaky breath that was the only thing to come out of his mouth, but it was impossible.

He didn’t want to cry, he cried too often. He wanted to stop bawling his eyes out at least once a day. He was so exhausted.

Steve gathered him into a tight hug again, and Billy buried his face into the crook of his neck. He tried to focus on Steve’s cologne, the fresh smell of his conditioner mixed with the Farrah Fawcett hairspray. He used to make fun of him for it, but now it was his favorite smell. Steve’s scent and the weight of his arms around him grounded him, kept him once again from coming undone at the seams. 

“You’re ok, babe. I’m here with you, you’re safe.” Steve spoke softly. 

All these words he’d said before, countless times, yet they never sounded forced nor rehearsed, they came out natural and reassuring every single time, and even this once Billy was soaking them in, as his fingers bunched into the denim of Steve’s jacket.

“They’re always screaming…” Billy choked out his words, he was trying so hard not to give in to sobs.

“I know…” Steve cradled him in his arms, lips pressing into dirty blond curls. “But you didn't mean to do that. You didn’t mean to harm them.”

Billy pulled back to look at Steve, his freckled nose scrunched, his lips twisted in a snarl as his eyes welled with tears “I harmed you, though. Without any shitty Mind Whatever possessing me.” 

Steve’s eyebrows met together in a frown. Billy didn’t know whether he looked offended or hurt, maybe a mixture of both.

“Why the fuck are you bringing this up now?” 

Hurt. Definitely hurt. 

“‘Cause I’m a monster, Steve. I just am.” Billy’s words sounded shaky and wet as tears finally spilled out of the bottom rim of his eyes, even if he wasn’t blinking.

Steve shook his head, slowly, his face twisting up as he took his words in “You’re not! You’re just-”

“Damaged?” Billy finished his phrase for him, a small, hollow laugh leaving his throat. “Yeah, I fucking am. Beyond repair.”

Steve’s eyes fell shut, lips pressing together into a thin line as he shook his head. Billy backed away, hands moving up to fist into his own hair as he let out a shaky breath, he hadn’t felt that awful in a while, and he hated to see that disappointed look on his boyfriend’s face.

How could he even stand being near him? Billy would never know.

“You saved us all.”

Billy froze, as he watched Steve’s chocolate eyes blink open once again. His lips twitched and tears kept rolling down his cheeks as his mind took him back to that day, the day he was supposed to die.

“You were ready to die to save a girl you’d just met,” Steve went on, shrugging his shoulders “you took an ungodly amount of pain and held back an interdimensional monster with your bare hands to save her, to save Max, to save everyone else.”

Billy looked down, swallowing thickly around the lump in his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut and wilted to his knees life a withering flower, his lower lip wound between his teeth as he sobbed quietly. In a matter of moments Steve was there, kneeling in front of him, wrapping his arms around his neck and kissing the top of his head, as Billy fisted the front of his navy shirt.

“You’re a good guy, Billy.” Steve whispered into his curls “You’re so much more than what they did to you. So much more than your scars.”

_They._

Because Steve knew it wasn’t just the Mind Flayer, he knew his wounds were rooted deeper than the scars left by the entities from the Upside Down. His invisible scars came from the monster he’d shared a house with for eighteen years of his life, and from the woman who hadn’t loved him enough to stay by his side or take him with her.

Billy looked up at him with his reddened eyes and his tears streaked cheeks, Steve’s eyes were filled to the brim with tears as he stared back at him with that overwhelming look of love that Billy still didn’t know how to process.

But there was no need for words, not when Steve gazed at him like so, not when Billy's hands were cupping Steve's cheeks to pull him in for a desperate, salty kiss. 

As their lips crashed together, it was like Billy was breathing for the first time in a long while, as if he'd been holding his breath underwater close to asphyxiation. Steve's lips parted and Billy's lungs filled with oxygen again, his blood thawed in his veins and his flesh warmed up. 

Steve was reeling him in, pulling him back ashore into the safety of his arms, of his lips, of his everything. Billy lost himself into the other boy, tasting him on his tongue and breathing in his scent, basking into the sunlight that radiated right out of his skin. 

“I love you.” Billy whimpered against Steve's swollen bottom lip. 

“I love you.” Steve whispered, his mouth brushing against Billy's in the process. 

Billy would have kept on crying, but Steve's fingers were pushing underneath his shirt, slow and careful, inevitably swiping across the ugliness of his torso. He froze, breath catching in his throat as Steve gently began to peel off the cotton that concealed his shame. 

Steve had seen the scars before, Billy had hated the look of horror on his face the first time that the bandages had come off, back in the hospital, and he'd never stopped wearing something around him after that. Not even when they fucked, and Steve had always respected that, he'd never coerced him. 

But now it was different. 

Now something inside Billy couldn't stop him. 

He couldn't shut him out forever. 

So the shirt came off, and Steve's expression didn't change. Billy's eyebrows drew together in confusion until Steve was holding him by the hands to help him up and guide him to the bed. 

Gently, Steve pushed Billy to lay down as he crawled on top of him, a reassuring glance wasn't enough for Billy to stop holding his breath, but then Steve's head was dipping to the center of his chest and his lips were tracing the nastiest of his scars, with a tenderness that clashed so hard with the violence that had caused it. 

Billy's breath came out broken, but Steve didn't stop, as he kissed each and every single mangled star that spangled his torso, with the gentleness that only Steve had ever reserved him. Billy covered his face with his hands, his cheeks were scalding and his eyes burned with the tears he was desperately trying to keep at bay. 

Steve's lips left his skin and Billy's breath hitched in his throat, as if he'd been thrown into icy water, then he felt Steve's fingers wrap around his wrists as he pulled his hands away from his face. 

“You're fucking beautiful…” Steve shook his head in awe. 

“No, I'm not.” Billy grimaced, arms moving to wrap around himself instinctively. 

“You are.” Steve cupped his jaw “These scars mean that you've survived, these scars mean that you won. That you saved us all.”

“But they remind me of all the people I killed-” Billy's eyes screwed shut. 

“You didn't kill them, it wasn't you. The monster was too powerful, you couldn't rebel.” Steve placed a hand over Billy's chest, fingers splaying right above his heart “The scars wouldn't be here if you hadn't fought back, babe…”

Billy's eyes snapped open. 

He really hadn't thought about that. He'd never made the connection that had so simply rolled off of Steve's tongue. Of course the scars would remind him of the Mind Flayer, but he never truly realized that they should have been a reminder of how he'd defeated it. 

“They mean I won, in the end…” Billy muttered, and for way too many seconds his own voice sounded foreign, as if he hadn't actually spoken those words. 

“Wear them with pride. Like medals.” Steve smiled, and Billy's heart skipped a beat. 

“What did I ever do to deserve you, Harrington?” Billy breathed out, staring up at the other boy in adoration. 

“Uhh… Dunno.” Steve scowled, brow wrinkling as he pretended to be deep in thought “You pestered me to insanity in school, but then a few months later single handedly saved my life and the whole fucking world?”

“Oh my _fucking_ God.” Billy rolled his eyes, but immediately let out a laugh. 

One of the most sincere, heartfelt laughs he'd ever felt bubble through and out of him in a very long time. 

“There it is!” Steve cried out in triumph “My most favorite sound in the whole world.”

Billy smiled, sheepish at first, but quickly hit back with his witty reply "Thought it was the way I moan while we fuck…" 

“Alright, alright… One of my top three favorite sounds in the world.” Steve sighed, rolling his eyes as his cheeks flushed the prettiest shade of red. 

Billy surged up, capturing Steve's lips again in a searing yet tender kiss. Steve leaned down, deepening the kiss and trying not to break the contact while Billy stripped him of his clothes, his broad hands running up and down his now bare, milky skin. 

“I need you…” Billy's eyes flickered like blue flames as he stared up at Steve. 

Steve nodded, sucking his own lower lip into his mouth. He didn't have to ask anything, didn't need Billy to say anything else because he knew what would have made Billy feel better, and he was there to provide him with everything. 

He went back to worshipping every single inch of his skin, alternating the mellow tracing of his lips to the hot trailing of his tongue. He licked and kissed and nipped, until he was swallowing around Billy's sex and the blond was squirming and moaning in bliss underneath him. 

When Steve pushed inside of him, Billy cried out and held onto him for dear life, but Steve brushed his curls out of his face and laced their fingers together, and when he started thrusting into him the tears that spilled down Billy’s face were of pure happiness and pleasure. 

Sex between them was rarely so gentle, Steve rarely was the one to take the reins, but Billy had needed the tenderness, he'd needed Steve to make love to him, he'd needed the love of his life to ground him and to remind him that he still deserved to be loved, he still deserved to be alive. 

They reached their climaxes almost at the same time, pearly white pleasure streaking their stomachs and chests. They kissed for a long time, there was an urgency and a desperation in the way in which Billy was ravaging Steve’s mouth, as if he feared he was going to vanish into thin hair, a coil of smoke in his arms.

But Steve was there, real and tangible, and when he collapsed by Billy’s side, the blond curled around him, nose pressed into Steve’s neck as the brunet held him tight. They didn’t speak for a while and Steve just assumed Billy’d fallen into a slumber - a good thing in his book, since the boy wasn’t really getting much sleep due to the nightmares. He began drawing circles and abstract patterns on Billy’s back, fingers grazing the embossed skin as they came and went along the rest of Billy’s smooth flesh, in an absentminded, affectionate gesture.

“Thank you…” Billy grumbled, all of a sudden.

“Thought you were asleep-” Steve raised his eyebrows for a moment, then furrowed them just as quickly “Are you-” he blinked “thanking me for sex?”

“You’re an idiot, Harrington.” Billy snickered softly against Steve’s neck, “I’m thanking you for keeping me sane.”

“Oh…” Steve let out a small, nervous laugh, then cupped Billy’s jaw and reared back enough to look him in the eyes “You don’t have to thank me either way, I got you. Always.”

Billy licked his lips, they felt chapped and cold, but he could still curl them into a toothy grin, eyes droopy and glistening in the dimly lit bedroom.

“Planting your metaphorical feet, and shit.” 

“Learned from the best.” Steve smirked, before pressing a soft peck to Billy’s lips.

“Thank you for being my idiot, Steve.” Billy said as he leaned his head back down on Steve’s shoulder.

“Thank you for being my hero, Billy.” Steve’s smirk bloomed into a full blown grin.

“Shut up.” Billy muttered as he hid his face into Steve’s neck, and nipped at the soft skin there, making him squirm and chuckle.

Billy went to sleep, eventually, unaware of his boyfriend staying awake to make sure he wasn’t going to wake up soon afterwards in a sweat and with a bloodcurdling scream. Yet that night the Mind Flayer stayed away, the faces didn’t show up, the voices didn’t scream, for once he was allowed to sleep a peaceful dreamless sleep in the arms of his lover.

The following evening, Steve found a badass, black leather jacket and a Mötley Crüe shirt folded right in the middle of it, at the foot of their bed, with a little note that said

_‘my best boy deserves a lot more than this, but wear this stuff tonight and i’ll make you shout at the devil._

_x billy'_

Steve laughed at that, but felt heat pool into the pit of his stomach and creep across his cheeks, he smoothed a hand over the fine leather and wore the jacket that, to his surprise, was already imbued with Billy’s cologne.


End file.
